Memoirs of a Colonel
by zeilfanaat
Summary: Hammond: “You ever think of writing a book of your exploits in the line of duty?” Jack: “I've thought about it, but then I'd have to shoot anyone that actually read it. … That's a joke, sir, most of my work over the last ten years was classified.”


**Memoirs of a Colonel**

By zeilfanaat

**Category:** Humor/Drama

**Ratings:** PG/K+

**Warning:** Character death, but I'm sure no one will mind this one.

**Disclaimer:** Stargate: SG-1 is not mine. No infringement intended. Any characters that are not from the series or the movie, are mine.

**Spoilers: **Children of the Gods (1) and Senator Kinsey. Though I suppose if you know Stargate: SG-1, you'll either have seen the episode, or you won't be surprised by this.

**Summary:** _Hammond:_ "You ever think of writing a book of your exploits in the line of duty?" _Jack:_ "I've thought about it, but then I'd have to shoot anyone that actually read it. … That's a joke, sir, most of my work over the last ten years was classified."

**A/N:** It all started with the lines from Jack O'Neill's first meeting with General Hammond (see summary). And I started wondering… what if he actually did write a book about his military life. And what if a particular someone got his hands on it… This is slightly different from what I usually write, and I'm curious as to what you guys think of it. It's a one-off.

**A/N2:** This is not beta-d; if there are mistakes, they are mine, and mine only. If you notice any, please mention them, so I can do something about it. Thank you.

**A/N3:** Thanks for those who nominated this story for the Best Jack Ficlet category in the **Jackfic Awards 2006**!

**xxx**

"Memoirs of a Colonel"

written by J. O'Neill.

_Prologue_

Before you read any further, I'd like to mention two things.

One, when I first met one of my Commanding Officers (though I was retired at that point), he asked me:

"You ever think of writing a book of your exploits in the line of duty?"

My answer was: "I've thought about it, but then I'd have to shoot anyone that actually read it."

Two, I'm a man of my word.

J. O'Neill

**xxx**

1952

You all know what happens when a mummy and a daddy get together. If not, you are way too young to read this, and you should close this book here and now, and throw it away!

Anyway, in this wonderful year, yours truly was born, only four days early.

1974

Yours truly graduated. Nothing important, except that this is where the ride starts, so buckle up. I received a letter with my service number. It's one I've had to repeat way too many times for me to ever forget it. 69-4-141. There. Now you can immediately forget about it again, 'cause it's of no interest to you. Except that you might read it a couple of times, if you're still interested in the rest.

**xxx**

…

**xxx**

2010

I'm retired now. For sure this time. And that is where the story of my 'military exploits' ends.

And Kinsey (yes, I know it's you. … wouldn't you like to know?) – your story will end here too.

Remember my prologue? I'm sure you know what that means…

B O O M

Signed,

Major General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill retired

Service number: 69-4-141

**xxx**

At his house in Colorado, Jack O'Neill was just about to start a fire in the fire place when he heard something on the radio that caught his interest.

…_has just been confirmed that former Senator Kinsey has been killed this afternoon. He was shot while apparently reading in his office at home. Thus far there have been no witnesses, nor suspects that we have heard of. The investigation is ongoing, however it has already been said that because of lack of evidence, it is very likely the case will remain unsolved. Now, unto the weather, tomorrow…_

Jack sat back on his haunches, as he watched the first flames clinging to the wood. 'Now who would have thought… It seems there are some people out there who didn't really like Kinsey. What a shame.'

'Hmm, it's cold. Looks like there'll be snow tomorrow. I'd better get this fire going a bit faster.'

He reached out to the pile of wood next to the fireplace. Not too long after that he made himself comfortable on his fauteuil, and watched the flames devour the construction he'd built. The last thing he could discern from the object on top, was:

oirs of a Colonel"

tten by J. O'Neill.

**The End**

_A/N: This was purely written for entertainment, and is not to be taken seriously. I don't think the 'real' Jack O'Neill would do this, though I wouldn't have been surprised if he had considered it… I mean, who wouldn't?_


End file.
